Untouched

by Sara Humphreys

  Prior to this the enemy had always been clear and the lines between friend and enemy distinct—the Caedo—but not anymore. Now the enemy hid among them. His father had been killed before they could discover who the other Purists were. It had been a betrayal of enormous proportions, and he never thought he would fear his own people.

  The soft click of Kerry’s bedroom door opening drew Dante out of his trance. When he turned around, the image before him, quite literally, caused him to catch his breath. Her long jet black hair fell loosely around her creamy bare shoulders. Her voluptuous body was draped deliciously in a strapless sapphire blue dress, which hugged her full breasts and was short enough to give ample view of her long lovely legs.

  One look at her sent an electric shock right to his crotch and hardened every inch of him. He wanted to devour and discover every bit of her. He drank in the sight and allowed his gaze to wander leisurely over her spectacular form, savoring every delectable curve.

  The twinkle in her eyes, a combination of lust and trepidation, let him know she knew exactly what kind of effect she had on him. He held her gaze and bit by bit closed the distance between them. Her heart rate increased as he invaded her space. Her energy waves pulsed wildly through him, and it made him want her even more. The stiletto heels made her just over six feet tall, but she still had to tilt her head up a bit to look him in the eye. Dante smiled. He imagined that there weren’t many men who had her looking up.

  “You look stunning, Ms. Smithson.” He didn’t take his eyes off of her, watching for any sign of discomfort. Dante took her hand and raised it to his lips. Her large eyes remained locked with his as a breathy sigh slipped from that luscious mouth.

  God, how he wanted her. He wanted to taste, nibble, and lick at every delectable inch of that porcelain skin, to be buried deep inside and have her body writhing beneath his. Gazes locked, he brushed his thumb over hers. Her breath hitched, and he reveled in the pulsing energy waves that flooded off of her.

  He was in big trouble.

  It took an enormous amount of restraint to keep from taking her right then, but he knew it was too soon. He knew she wanted him, but he had to remind himself that he needed to take it slow. She may look like a sex vixen, but he knew better than anyone that looks were deceiving.

  “If I may say, you are even more beautiful in person,” he murmured softly against her fingers and placed the lightest of kisses on her soft, warm skin. All the while he held her gaze.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice just barely above a whisper. “Please, call me Kerry.”

  “As you wish.” Dante smiled. He released her hand and gestured toward the door. “Shall we go? It’s almost seven, and something tells me Arthur doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

  Kerry laughed softly and shook her head. “No, he doesn’t.” Dante’s heart squeezed at the sound of her laughter. He led the way to the elevator and prayed for the strength to keep her safe.

  They walked into The Carousel Bar and found Arthur waiting impatiently at a table for four along the wall. His unpleasant energy rippled distinctly through the bar, and although he didn’t realize it, distinguished him from the rest of its patrons. The Carousel Bar was exactly that—a carousel. The bartender moved confidently at the center of it all as he served drinks to people sitting on the circus-themed bar stools. The back of each chair flashed hand-painted images of circus animals. Zebras, lions, and elephants frozen in time circled slowly around the mahogany center. The entire bar spun bit by bit in the center of the room and Dante had to admit it was one of the most interesting bars he’d been in.

  Arthur held a gin and tonic in his hand and a look of displeasure on his face. Kerry waved at him and was rewarded with a curt get-your-ass-over-here gesture. Dante reminded himself to ask Kerry exactly how she hooked up with a jerk like this. He had all the sleaze of Hollywood and the slippery slickness of New York. To make matters worse, there was no sign of the client anywhere.

  “Time to make nice,” she sang through a painted-on smile.

  “I’ll be right here if you need me,” he said discreetly, touching her lower back and sending her subtle waves of reassurance.

  Kerry cast him glance of gratitude and went over to play the game with Arthur. He did his best not to grin like an idiot. She was, slowly but surely, becoming more accepting of him and no longer flinched or withdrew from his touch, but seemed to welcome it.

  Kerry settled herself into a chair across the table from Arthur as Dante positioned himself against the wall by the door for the perfect vantage point. He could see Kerry and every angle that someone could approach her.

  They drank and chatted quietly at the table, which gave Dante ample time to scan the crowd. There was a businessman contemplating cheating on his wife with the woman he’d met at a meeting. The two old college friends who’d escaped for a weekend of fun without their husbands. When he scanned their minds he found nothing out of the ordinary.

  The couple celebrating their anniversary and another pair trying to hang onto something that had died a long time ago piqued his curiosity. He shook his head and scoffed audibly at the idea of divorce. Amoveo did not divorce. All of their matings were predestined, and how could anyone argue with fate? For generations their race had been struggling to endure, and mates had become so few and far between, the idea of divorce seemed ludicrous. The last two generations, in particular, had such challenges finding their mates that Dante couldn’t imagine throwing away such a hard-won gift.

  His eyes finally settled on Kerry. Her long legs were crossed demurely, and she leaned back comfortably in her chair. She nodded and smiled tightly as Arthur rambled on about all the big plans he had for her future. Dante scanned his mind and found it flooded with greed. Nothing would ever be enough for him. He looked every bit the polished LA type, perfectly manicured from head to toe—all style and zero substance. He was a man who was not used to being kept waiting. Entitlement oozed from him, and his energy buzzed like an annoying bug that needed to get swatted. He wasn’t dangerous, but he was a dirtbag. He cared about Kerry, but he cared about his bottom line more. Dante had to squelch the urge to pound the little worm into the ground.

  Stop glowering, you’re going to scare the customers. Her voice slipped into his mind unexpectedly. His startled eyes flew to her face, which held a satisfied smirk.

  What the fuck? He whispered teasingly. Why, you little minx. A lopsided grin cracked his face.

  ***

  Kerry tore her gaze from his and looked down at her martini with a satisfied smile. She stirred the crystalline liquid slowly with an olive-laden toothpick. I guess you could say I’m not a stranger to unusual gifts.

  Arthur’s insistent voice interrupted their silent conversation. “Hey, are you listening to me?”

  “Of course I am.” She smiled sweetly and bit a martini-drenched olive off the toothpick.

  “Good. We’ve got some outstanding opportunities ahead of us. You’ve got several offers on the table, but they have conflicting dates. Our sister agency in LA is interested in submitting you for some film roles.” He took a sip from his drink.

  Kerry shook her head adamantly. “No movies, Arthur. I absolutely do not want to do any film or television.” She put her hand up to silence the argument he was about to start. “No.”

  He laughed heartily and waved off her refusal. “Oh stop. You and I both know that you could make the leap to the big screen. You’re the flavor of the month and have to strike while the iron is hot.”

  Kerry hated the idea of disappointing Arthur or the agency. They’d been good to her and certainly secured her some coveted jobs. Hell, they put her on the map in the fashion industry. She had become the poster girl, literally, for sexy, curvy bodies. She really did owe it all to Arthur. He pushed harder for her than any other rep in the agency.

  Kerry knew that she was the only client he represented that really made any major money. The more seasoned reps at the agency had been trying to woo her away from him for years
, but she liked only having to deal with one guy. Not all of the guys in the agency. Besides he never once tried to get in her pants. As snotty as he could be, Arthur had been good to her. She didn’t look forward to telling him she was quitting the business, and this would be her last shoot. Looking into his face with the perfectly waxed eyebrows, Kerry sighed heavily and looked down at her drink. “Look Arthur, I—”

  He cut her off abruptly. “The client’s here,” he said quickly. The wooden chair screeched over the floor in protest as he got up quicker than a snake.

  Kerry looked up at Dante for some reassurance. Irrational as it may have been, she had developed some kind of bizarre connection with this man she barely knew. After all, there weren’t exactly lots of people she connected with telepathically—hell, there weren’t lots of people she connected with at all. She stifled the hysterical giggle that threatened to bubble up and reveal her for the conflicted mess she’d become.

  Kerry drained the rest of her martini and glanced up at Dante. His face was etched into a mask of calm detachment, but she sensed something dark rumbling beneath the surface. She followed his gaze and saw what had captured his attention so intently.

  The client had finally arrived.

  Jacqueline Petite was one of the hottest new young designers on the scene. She designed edgy French-inspired lingerie, but one look at her and you’d think she worked as one of the street artists down at Jackson Square. Her blonde hair, streaked with bright blue strands woven throughout, was piled high on her head. Heavy black eye makeup framed her blue eyes, and bright red lips puckered up as she gave air kisses to an ass-kissing Artie. A burgundy velvet cape fell loosely over her narrow shoulders, and a silky black dress covered her from neck to toe. Who the hell wears a cape in this climate?

  Her oddest accessory, however, had to be the black cat that she cradled with one arm. She stroked its head softly with her free hand, and its bright yellow eyes were fixed on Kerry. She could hear it purring from across the room. The sight of her reminded Kerry of a witch, not a high-end designer. Calling this woman eccentric would be the understatement of the year. Who brings a cat to a bar?

  I hope she’s not wearing one of her own designs.

  Kerry tried not to smile at Dante’s comment and intentionally avoided his gaze, afraid she’d burst out laughing. The teasing tone of his voice actually tickled her mind. Speaking with him telepathically, their secret conversation, felt incredibly decadent and intensely intimate.

  Be nice. Fashion is subjective. Kerry tried to scold him, but truthfully she couldn’t have agreed with him more. Their private dialogue was interrupted by a very animated Arthur.

  “Jacqueline Petite. This is—”

  “She needs no introduction.” Jacqueline bowed her head dramatically and dipped in a delicate curtsy. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle Smithson. I am honored that you have agreed to be the new face of Le Fleur Designs.”

  Kerry stood to greet her, but the cat let out a loud meow. Startled, she quickly sat back down. Jacqueline motioned for her to stay seated and murmured something into the cat’s ear, while she gave it some reassuring strokes. Kerry exchanged a look with Dante and shrugged.

  Arthur relinquished his chair to Jacqueline and grabbed another from a neighboring table. She hadn’t attempted the Hollywood kiss or a handshake. Kerry felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  “Please. Don’t get up. You’ll have to pardon Jester. That’s just his way of saying ‘hello.’”

  “No problem.” Kerry waved her hand dismissively and smiled tightly. That creepy cat continued to stare at her with those bright yellow eyes.

  “Please, let me get you another drink.” She waved without even looking up, and the waitress appeared within moments. Jacqueline ordered another round for Kerry and Artie and a Stinger for herself. Kerry half expected her to order a saucer of milk for Jester.

  “As you know, we have changed our location for tomorrow. We will be shooting at one of the old houses out on the East Bank near Braithwaite. My friend Joseph owns it and is letting us use it for the next couple of days. It took some doing, but I finally convinced him to allow us to use it.”

  As Jacqueline spoke she continued to stroke Jester, who purred like a car engine and didn’t take his unyielding stare off of Kerry.

  “A mansion? Well, that sounds fine. The boys were trying to scare me earlier with swamps and alligators.”

  Jacqueline’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Yes. I don’t think you have to worry about the swamps, cher,” she said, the lilt of her voice painted with just a touch of a Cajun accent.

  Kerry narrowed her eyes and cocked her head warily. “Okay,” she began slowly. “What is it? Why do I feel like there’s more to it than just a mansion?”

  Jacqueline threw her head back and let out a big loud laugh. “Now that is why I chose you.” Her laughter subsided. “You see more than what is on the surface.” She nodded with a knowing smile. “It’s more like the ruins of a mansion in the middle of what resembles a jungle.”

  Kerry leaned into the table as though she didn’t quite hear her correctly. “I’m sorry? Did you say ruins?”

  “Yes, cher. You heard me correctly. Ruins. Once upon a time Breezemont thrived with laughter, love, and life. But now—” Her voice softened, and she placed a kiss on top of Jester’s head. “Now it is a shadow of what it used to be. There is something beautiful about it beneath the surface. Like my lingerie, cher.”

  Kerry cocked her head. “Your lingerie?”

  She nodded. “Women of all shapes and sizes can wear their business suits or their mommy jeans, but underneath they wear my lingerie. It is the beauty that they keep secret. The beauty that lies beneath, you see? There is another reason that I chose you, cher.”

  Kerry arched a dark eyebrow. “Oh really?”

  “I could have had the traditional model, but I wanted a real woman like you. My customers aren’t supermodels, cher. They are the modern day woman who worries about her lumps and bumps. Ah, but put on my lingerie, and she feels sexy, beautiful, and strong.”

  “I think I understand.” Kerry nodded slowly.

  “Well, I don’t! But hey, who cares?” Arthur’s voice broke into their conversation abruptly, and both women looked at him as though they’d forgotten he was even there. “We’re very excited about this shoot. Right, Kerry?”

  “Yes, of course,” Jacqueline said with poorly veiled irritation at Artie’s crass response. “I’m sure Kerry will know what I mean when she sees the house tomorrow.” Jacqueline’s face broke into a broad smile as the waitress arrived with their drinks. “Merci! Put this on my account, Marie.” The waitress nodded with a wink and cleared away the empty glasses.

  “Thank you for the drinks, my dear,” Arthur said in his usual haughty tone.

  This chick is a little off. Dante’s voice cut into her mind and caused her to jump in her seat. Arthur gave her one of those what-are-you-doing-looks, which had her crossing one leg over the other and adjusting herself in the chair. She brushed her long hair back over her shoulder and smiled as Dante’s smooth voice slipped welcomingly back into her mind. It goes beyond the outfit, the hair, and even that damn cat.

  She shot him a reprimanding look that was actually a poorly veiled smile, but his face remained a mask of stone. Suddenly, Jester hissed loudly, his ears flattened back against his skull. Kerry looked at the hissing feline; its huge yellow eyes were fixed on Dante.

  It hissed louder.

  “Shhh, be nice, Jester.” Jacqueline continued to stroke him until he settled back down. She cast a glance over to Dante and eyed him warily. “I don’t think he likes your bodyguard. You’ll have to excuse Jester,” she said, turning back to Kerry. “He has very poor manners, especially when he’s tired.” She sighed. “It is getting late.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kerry stammered, embarrassed that she hadn’t introduced Dante. “You’re very perceptive. That is my bodyguard, Dante Coltari.”
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  “No apologies necessary, cher.” She turned to Kerry, and before she could move, placed one delicate hand on her arm.

  Kerry froze, her breath caught in her throat as she braced herself for the onslaught. However, the mind-splitting pain she expected never came. Instead, quick sizzling shocks zapped through her hand and up her arm. The blurred image of a man running after her flashed into her mind. He chased her, calling her name. She couldn’t see him clearly, but she could feel everything.

  Blood.

  Grief.

  Hatred.

  Fear.

  She saw it all falling around her like a giant jigsaw puzzle that she couldn’t quite put together. Kerry’s eyes grew wide, and Jacqueline removed her hand as quickly it had come.

  “Not as perceptive as you, cher,” she whispered. Jacqueline stood up from the table, and her long cape fluttered around her like wings. “I will see you all tomorrow at Breezemont.”

  She gave a quick curtsy, nodded to Dante who’d moved in right behind her, and breezed silently out the door. Jester’s yellow eyes peering over her shoulder were the last thing Kerry saw before the world went dark.

  Chapter 7

  She’d been passed out for almost half an hour. He caught her when she’d fainted and didn’t give Arthur or anyone else a chance to get near her. He got her out of there as quickly as possible and carried her up to her suite. Arthur wanted to call a doctor, but Dante convinced him they should keep it quiet in an effort to keep it out of the press. The very idea of any kind of publicity got the guy practically giddy.

  Once Dante settled Kerry into her bed, Arthur left, claiming that he needed to do some damage control with the bar patrons. Dante assumed that meant he would be calling the press himself. At that point, Dante didn’t care. He just wanted the smug bastard to leave.

  He watched Kerry’s chest rise and fall as she slept. Whatever she’d experienced when Jacqueline touched her sent her over the edge. Her mouth was set in a frown, and her brow knitted in what he could only assume was pain. He closed his eyes and reached out to her mind, but once again met an impenetrable wall.